AU - MAGNI & LAKSHMI

[mahalakshmi]

if you'll be my light, i'll be your shelter

i. first meeting | a non existent engagement and a hasty marriage ii. a tempertantrum in a thunderstorm | sticks and stones may break my bone but words will leave me with crippling anxiety (and a headcold) iii. a kindness of intimacies | nsfw, sometimes, love is like falling into an icy lake iv. just like the battle of troy, there is nothing subtle here | when the world conspires to consistently make you insecure about your wife.

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[mahalakshmi]

Honestly, this all seemed a bit much, to her. To carry her up the whole mountain? She hadn't understood it completely necessary. But... well, she couldn't refuse Magni anything in a way that was becoming less to do with their position as Jarl and Grivenne, but more to do with the way that Magni looked at her.

The way that she knew she must look back.

They said it was for newlyweds. A different sort of bride than the ones of this land - but Korth would be glad to know loved blossomed many different ways, wouldn't he? Well, she hoped he didn't mind the reminder. Because it's the white of these holy robes, but they are tinged with the red of a newlywed bride of her own homeland. Flickered with gold and flowers in her hair and most especially - the red powder that goes from the peak of her hairline along the part into her hair in a thick red line.

Because she knew they could not fail, anyone else could and it would be fine, but not them. Never them. So despite how cold it might be going up the mountain, she refused to wear any of the heavy clothes of the North. No, she's dressed only so warm, but far lighter in her saree, to give Magni a fighting chance at the quest.

And with it, when Magni looks to her, tentatively with that newfound affection, she reaches her hand to wind her fingers loosely with Magni's as the priest turns from Magni to Lakshmi and reverently, graciously, she closes her eyes and bows her head to be blessed as her wife had.

The prayer first to the Mountain Father of these lands. But second, Goddess Lakshmi, please, grant us prosperity this day. Some twist in her gut that knows, that if they manage this, it would go miles to stopping all dreadful rumours about them.

[villieldr]

Logically assessed, having to carry a grown person up a mountain is excessive. An unreasonable expectation to make, and yet perhaps the grandness of the gesture was precisely why it must be done. Magni had it in her favour that she was stronger and taller than even her brother had been, that she could wield a hammer with such control, but to carry Lakshmi up the mountain and keep her safe—

that was a great responsibility, and one she could not underestimate.

Her gaze is caught on Lakshmi. She reminds her of so many things. The warmth of summer, the dance of flames, the shimmer of light over gold. She is the sun, rising in the sky and bringing colour and life to so much around her. When she looks at her, she feels her heart beat faster. Carrying her and holding her close for so long a time will be... a rare, precious thing. The vulnerability of the elation isn't lost on her, the fragility of whatever affection might be blossoming between them, and when she holds her hand out to Lakshmi she has to remind herself not to bite her lip nervously.

"Under the gaze of the Sky Lady and for the love of the Mountain-Father,"she says softly. And then quieter still, only for Lakshmi to hear, "do I have your permission?"

[mahalakshmi]

Everyone was watching them, she knew that much, a crowd had gathered to see the Jarl carry her new wife up the mountain, all of them waiting with bated breath. To that, Lakshmi was absolute in her role, respect, of course, for herself, and her position. But the way she defers first and foremost to Magni above all things is there, in every little twitch and movement of recognition.

As Magni speaks, she echoes. "Under the gaze of the Sky Lady and for love of the Mountain-Father." Then as Magni asks, Lakshmi bows her head. "Always, my Jarl."

But between them, just, between them, for no one else to know, her gaze flickers up, impishly quick, and smiles so very sharp and gone. The golden ring that hung at her nose glittering with sunlight on gold so very briefly with the little gesture.

[villieldr]

That spark of mischief coaxes the very faintest of smiles from her, subtle enough that few would ever notice unless they knew her well, and fleeting enough that only Lakshmi is likely to have caught it. She bends, scooping Lakshmi into her arms with utmost ease, taking a moment to look to her and make sure she’s comfortable with how she is being held before Magni begins to ascend the mountain. Twenty-thousand steps, some claimed, others thirty-thousand or forty, and truth be told she wasn’t very interested in counting to any such number. It would be a matter of one foot after the other, one at a time, so that they might traverse this journey together.

As they ascend there are pillars and acolytes along the way bearing candles or incense, some plateaus of rock that allowed for gatherings of clusters of onlookers, but spaced out enough that once they have left some of the crowd behind them they are afforded a moment of privacy.

“Let me know if you need a break,” Magni says, so very, very seriously. Her smile echoes the mischief of Lakshmi’s from before, though, very gently teasing her wife.

[mahalakshmi]

It is supposed to be so very serious, she knows, but she can't help the muffled babble of laughter when Magni picks her up, pressing her face against her shoulder to stop her getting too stern a look from the Priest for not taking this seriously.

Or, at least, she doesn't see it. Her arms going around her shoulders, holding onto her tightly. The drape of her pallu hanging from her shoulder, catching in the breeze as Magni takes her up the hill. "Oh no, I think I am all set up just to enjoy the scenery." She teases right back. Smug like she couldn't be more comfortable.

[villieldr]

Magni can't help a quiet laugh of her own, shaking her head very slightly as she keeps moving, lapsing into a comfortable silence. Her quietness can take such different forms, but this is not the strained silence that haunted them both when first Lakshmi came here.

After close to an hour, or perhaps a little longer, her breath is coming a little more ragged, demanding more effort as she keeps moving. Her arms are aching from the sustained weight and position, and her thighs are burning. There are others doing this walk, but they are still a ways behind them. She doesn't look back to see if all of them are still with them, or if any have given up; part of her suspects that if she does, the Sky Lady will not look kindly on it. Despite the chill air about them, sweat runs down her face, her chest, the back of her neck, and her clothes cling to her back. Her hold on Lakshmi, though, that remains gentle, careful, despite the fatigue.

"Do you think there's cake at the top?"